accuse me of just singing about places with scrappy boys faces
by Ms.Informed13
Summary: "Is Charlie someone special?" He asks. She needs to stop thinking how this feels like betrayal, "You could say that." "I know most artists aren't willing to do these, but I say, fuck fate." Beca nods in agreement, "Fuck it." Beca is eighteen and she still hasn't met Chloe, but she can't count the number of times she's asked her for forgiveness. BECHLOE SOULMATE TATTOO AU- ANGSTY
**A/N- So I figured it was about time I took a stab at a Soulmate AU, but you know me, I can't just write anything fluffy. So this is an angsty take on the old trope where your soulmate's name appears tattooed on your body at a certain age (15 in this fic).**

 **This story runs backwards in time, for no reason other than I wanted to see how it flows, let me know if it's too confusing that way. Also this isn't proofread so there's definitely mistakes, let me know so I can fix them.**

 **I own nothing. (except my insanity, though sometimes that owns me instead)**

 **Title is from 'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk' by Rufus Wainwright**

* * *

Beca is forty-eight and she had promised that she wouldn't snoop, but she can't help it.

She's waited for all of five minutes past midnight before she slips out of bed and pads quietly down the hall to the bathroom at the end of the hall that the kids share. She can see the light shining out from beneath the crack in the door so she knows her daughter must still be in there.

She listens quietly outside for a second, hearing nothing, before she knocks lightly, "It's me, can I come in?"

There's a moment of hesitation before Charlie answers, "Yeah."

When Beca pushes in, she finds her daughter sitting on the closed toilet in her sports bra and a pair of shorts. Beca takes a seat on the edge of the tub, she scans a quick look over her daughter, not seeing the telltale black ink of her fifteenth birthday anywhere.

She knows by now it's best to wait for Charlie to open up than to push- that much she's inherited from Beca.

Her patience is rewarded soon, "They're name is Spencer. It's on my hip."

Beca nods, "That's a nice name."

"Yeah, I guess." Charlie shrugs.

"Come on, you've known your soulmate for all of five minutes, tell me you aren't disappointed already?" Beca teases gently.

"I'm not." The girl bites her lip for a second, trying to puzzle out everything she's been thinking, "Is Spencer a boy's name or a girl's name?"

There it is.

"It could be either."

Charlie nods.

"Did your mother ever tell you about when she turned fifteen?"

"No."

"Well, things were really different back then." Beca begins, swallowing back a lump, "She was so freaked out, she tried to wash it off. Even with the whole tattoo thing, people weren't exactly accepting of people like us."

Beca scratches the back of her neck while she tries to think, "Since hers is in such a visible place and you can't exactly mistake Rebecca for a guy's name she wasn't so lucky. She tried to cover it up, and when I met her, she used to always wear a watch or something over it."

Charlie furrows her brows at that, now she's never known her mother to be ashamed of her soulmate tattoo, and she never wears bracelets on her left wrist because she doesn't want it covered.

"She was always so strong, she gave that to you, you know?"

"Yeah." Charlie smiles.

"I wish I could have been that strong at your age."

"What did you do?"

Beca looks down at her fingers, tangling them together, "I was afraid." She says, reaching down and scratching her ankle, it's a habit that has lessened since the names of her two other kids joined Charlie's on the pale skin there, but it's a habit that hasn't disappeared totally.

"I don't suppose we ever told you how we decided on your name, did we?"

"No."

Beca nods and begins telling that story too. When she finishes, it's nearly one. She stands from the tub and hugs Charlie solidly before sending her to bed. When she gets back to her room and slides beneath the covers, Chloe has woken up too.

"How is she?"

"Good." Beca smiles, curling into her wife's side, "The name is Spencer."

"That's a nice name."

"That's what I said." Beca chuckled.

"How's Charlie taking it?"

"She's confused, but she'll be fine." Chloe nods and tucks her head into Beca's shoulder.

"She's brave, just like you."

Chloe knows that sometimes Beca still feels guilty, and she always does her best to nip that in the bud, "You're so brave too, Becs."

Beca knows that sometimes she needs to learn how to forgive herself because Chloe always has, "I love you."

Beca is forty-eight and she's so much stronger than she was. She may never be totally solid, but she's getting there.

…

Beca is thirty-three and she's so in love.

She's been in love for years, but this is different, because Chloe is smiling and straightening the little pink hat on their daughter's head while the girl rests peacefully in Beca's arms.

Aubrey and Stacie have already been by today to dote over the girl. Stacie hardly containing her excited squeals and telling Aubrey at least five times in the short hour they spent in the hospital that she wants one too. Aubrey tried her very best to play off how pale the suggestion made her, but she covered well, teasing Beca like they were still in college.

Now the two have left the small family for some peace and quiet.

"She's perfect, Chlo." The DJ breathes, she swears that their girl is already smiling at her though logically she knows it's not possible.

"Yeah, she is."

They sit in silence for a while longer until a nurse comes in to check in on Chloe, the pregnancy had been hard on the redhead, and she went into labor early, It was a stressful first couple of days, but both mother and daughter had bounced back quickly.

"How's everyone doing today?" The nurse asks.

"Excellent." Chloe beams.

"Great." The girl goes about checking Chloe's vitals before moving onto the baby, "Have you two settled on a name yet?"

"Charlie." The redhead states definitively.

"What?" Beca's head snaps up quickly. They hadn't talked about the name beyond Aubrey suggesting various (perfectly suitable) names, and Beca systematically dismissing them all. This is completely out of left field.

"It's perfect, Beca."

"I don't know-"

"Please?"

With her wife looking at her like that, there is no way that Beca could have ever tried to say no, "Charlie it is."

"Great." The nurse smiles, leaving to give them some privacy.

Beca looks at her daughter and hopes. She hopes that this name, which for years has stood for her as a symbol of her own weakness, will give the girl strength. Chloe already knows it will.

Beca is thirty-three and she's stronger, but she's still not solid.

…

Beca is thirty and she's so alive.

She's DJing a set at a club in LA, and she's just queuing up the next few tracks so she can leave the booth. It's a club that she's been featured at a decent amount in the past, and now that she's getting more into the producing side of the industry, she has cut back on these late night bits.

But tonight is a favor for a friend, and she's got some people waiting for her. So she sets up her next few tracks, she should have exactly fifteen minutes out on the floor before she needs to get back. She sees her people easily enough, Aubrey and Stacie are two of the tallest women on the floor with their heels adding inches to their already impressive height.

Beca winds her way over towards them, only to be stopped by a man. He's the tall, dark, and handsome that thrives in the dark of clubs like this. He leans down to shout what will undoubtedly be some crappy pickup line over the music.

He only get out 'Hey, I'm Charlie-' before Beca has cut him off with a wide smirk. She takes his hand and leads him through the crowd towards where she sees Aubrey grinding against Stacie. The ex-Bella's captain has really loosened up since college and law school, Stacie was a big part of that.

Aubrey gives her a questioning look when she sees Beca approaching with the man, "Tell them your name." Beca commands, her grin firmly in place.

"Uhm, I'm Charlie." He says awkwardly.

Stacie laughs, and Aubrey just rolls her eyes, this has become a sort of contest over the years, and Beca always seems to be the winner. Chloe shakes her head, taking Beca's hand and pulling her in close, "Thanks Charlie. You can go." She says to dismiss him.

"Excuse me?" The confused man asks.

"You heard me. Get out of here." Chloe commands, when he just stares blankly at them, she raises Beca's left hand, held in her own, "She's taken." Chloe says pointedly, Beca's wedding band shining in the lights of the club.

The man puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. As Beca is about to admonish her wife for how she handled the man, Chloe wraps her arms around the brunette's neck, bringing her in for a hot kiss before dancing closely with her.

Any admonishment is wiped from Beca's mind as the two continue to dance with as little space between them as possible. With a smirk, Chloe licks up the DJ's neck to her earlobe where she gently bites down, "I love you." She whispers.

"I love you." Beca replies, "It's always been you."

With those words, Beca knows that she's won again and always will win because despite it all, Chloe is here with her. They're dancing like they're twenty again and Beca catches her wife's left hand. She presses a kiss to the redhead's wrist. The wrist where Chloe hasn't worn a watch or thick bracelet for nearly ten years.

Beca is thirty and she might never get over how perfectly she fits into the cradle of Chloe's hips.

…

Beca is twenty-one and she's dripping wet.

Goosebumps are erupting all across her skin, and she's freezing cold, she's standing outside in the middle of the night, waiting for Chloe to say something. She is also drunk, which is probably why she is having trouble focusing on the way the redhead's eyes are not their regular bright blue.

"Chlo, please."

The redhead just shakes her head, "Becs."

Beca is dripping wet because it's raining, and she's freezing cold because she's shirtless, there in the middle of the sidewalk in just her bra. Aubrey is standing there just behind Chloe, her lips doing that thing where they're pulled tight at the corners like she's trying very hard not to betray any emotion. And it makes sense because Aubrey is always right fucking there.

Like when she was right fucking there when Beca was halfway out of her Bella's costume, and the stupid strapless bra they had to wear was riding up, and she saw her best friend's name on Beca. Beca, the girl with the ear monstrosities and the bad attitude.

That was a week ago. A week of hard glares, pointed looks, and tight lipped exchanges from Aubrey that led to here. Here being Beca shirtless in the middle of the sidewalk in the rain, waiting for Chloe to say something.

Because Beca cannot wait too much longer, she's been waiting for six years.

"I know yours says Rebecca."

Chloe is holding a hand to her lips to muffle the sob that threatens to escape when she takes a few hesitant steps in towards the brunette. When she's close enough, she reaches out a hand and gently brushes her fingers against the single word.

"What about Charlie?" Chloe asks.

Beca shakes her head, "He doesn't exist." She whispers as Chloe's hand moves up to cradle her cheek, "It was always you. I'm sorry I'm not as brave as you are."

Chloe wants to be mad. She wants to blame Beca for the days she cried alone (or to Aubrey) because she was convinced that she wasn't Beca's soulmate, or because she thought she had fallen in love with the wrong Rebecca. She wants to get back the months she wasted last year chasing the only other Rebecca she managed to meet at Barden (a math major from Minnesota who was a kind girl all things considered, but had 'Jane' tattooed on her hip). She wants to be mad at Beca for every man named Charlie she's glared at in the last three years.

But she can't.

Instead, Chloe lets the tears she's been holding back fall as she pulls Beca tight against her. She buries her face in Beca's hair, and nuzzles in close to her neck.

Beca is twenty-one, and she's crying into Chloe's shoulder because even though this is nowhere near the first time they've hugged, it's never felt like this before.

"You're going to catch a cold." Chloe says when she feels Beca shivering against her.

"It's worth it."

"You just really wanted me to see you topless, didn't you?"

"You're onto me Beale."

Beca is twenty-one and she feels like she's home.

…

Beca is twenty and she's in dangerous territory. She joined the Bellas, she moved into the house, she is going the whole nine yards, and now she's been dragged into a movie night with the girls.

She's on the couch, and Chloe is cuddled into her side (like she always is), her hair is tickling Beca's nose, and she's dead asleep. Most of the Bellas are at this point. Beca isn't. She hasn't been sleeping regularly since the day Chloe saw the name 'Charlie' tattooed on her ankle and didn't talk to her for a day, or maybe it was earlier than that. Maybe Beca hasn't been able to sleep properly since the first day she heard Chloe's name.

Because Beca doesn't think she'll really ever get over the flash of hope in Chloe's eyes when she first saw the brunette's ankle tattoo, before it was replaced by heartbreak, she doesn't know if she'll ever sleep properly again.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Beca shoots a quick glance around to make sure nobody is watching when she reaches down to grab Chloe's left hand from where it's fallen into her lap. She gently pushes the thick strap of the watch Chloe always wears down her arm and freezes when she finally sees the word she's been trying to get a clear look at for the past year.

Her breath catches in the back of her throat, and Beca's sure that Chloe must be able to hear her heart beat speed up because inked on the redhead's wrist is 'Rebecca'.

They've been best friends for the better part of the year, and somehow Chloe has managed to hide her tattoo until now. Beca is too focused on the seven letters written across Chloe's skin to notice Aubrey watching her like a hawk.

Beca is twenty, and tears are dripping hot down her cheeks when she feels Chloe pull her arm back and snuggle in closer. Beca is twenty and trying not to focus on how perfectly the redhead fits against her.

…

Beca is nineteen and she's embarrassed. She had been singing contentedly in the shower when she was interrupted. One minute she was happily relaxing from the day, and the next a very naked redhead was pulling aside her shower curtain.

"What the hell, dude?"

"You can sing!"

Beca scrambled, grabbing her loofa, shampoo bottle, everything within reach as she tried to cover herself to the redhead's prying eyes. Mainly, she instinctively presses one palm flat against the left side of her ribs, right under her boob to cover the ink.

If the redhead notices the move, she doesn't say anything, "You have to audition for the Bellas!"

Beca still doesn't know this woman's name when she gets her to sing her lady jam. They finish the song together, and Beca does her very best not to look anywhere inappropriate, which pretty much leaves the redhead's face, and the hand still holding the shower curtain hostage. Because the redhead's eyes are the brightest shade of blue that Beca's ever seen, she can't help it that her gaze falls to the woman's hand.

More precisely her wrist.

Her left wrist, which now is not covered with a thick watch, but rather marginally obscured by the shower curtain. The first letter is most definitely an 'R' and Beca cannot breathe right with her in this close proximity.

The moment is broken when a man steps around the corner into their space. He is tall and lean and everything that a woman like the redhead should want except that he has the name 'Suzanne' tattooed on his right pectoral, and the woman introduces him as 'Tim' which most definitely doesn't start with an 'R'.

Beca is nineteen and she's trying her best to cover the tattoo on her ribs while preserving any sense of modesty she has left.

…

Beca is nineteen and she's done. It's not even twentyfour hours into the hell her father is calling a college experience, but she's already done with it all. She's at the activities fair for Barden, wandering up and down through the tables looking for something worthwhile to join when a flier is shoved in front of her.

"Any interest in joining our acapella group?"

Beca freezes at the sight of the smiling redhead and scowling blonde before her. She doesn't process the rest of the conversation spinning around as she accepts the flyer. What she does process if the top of a tattoo sticking out above the thick silver watch on the redhead's wrist. The first letter is something swoopy like a P, or an R, or a B. God forbid it's a R.

She swallows down that dangerous thought and focuses enough to hear the information about auditions and scoff. She doesn't catch the name of either woman before she scurries away from the fair.

Beca is nineteen and she's trying to keep her blush from showing when the redhead shoots her one final wide smile.

…

Beca is eighteen and she's far too sober for her own liking. But she's underage and this is illegal, and it was hard enough finding someone to do this, it's not like her showing up drunk will make it any easier.

She bites her lip and bounces her leg as she waits to be seen. When the overweight bearded man comes out from the back, he has a kind enough smile as he calls her name. She tucks her hair back behind her ear and follows him to the chair.

"So we're just doing some simple script today?"

"Yeah." Beca nods, sitting and rolling up the leg of her jeans, "Just this."

The man rolls his stool forward to get a look at the ink Beca's written on herself. His expression is grim, but he doesn't say no, so this is farther than she's gotten at the two other places she's tried.

When he has all the equipment ready, he sets about his work, "So, is this Charlie someone special?" He hedges.

Since he's doing this despite her fake ID being absolute shit, and since Beca needs to take her mind off how this feels like a betrayal, she talks to him, "I guess you could say that."

"You'd be surprised how many of these I do." He mused aloud, "People want names covered up, or turned into different ones. I know not a lot of artists are willing to do these anymore, but I say, fuck fate."

Beca nods in agreement, "Fuck it."

Beca is eighteen and the stinging in her ankle is nothing compared with the stinging in the corners of her eyes because she still hasn't met Chloe, but she can't count the number of times she's asked her for forgiveness.

Bega is eighteen and she's sorry she's not strong enough.

…

Beca is seventeen and she's nervous.

She's standing in front of the mirror in Kelly's house, checking for the last time that her bikini covers her ribcage tattoo. She's had two years of practice, and she gives the top one last tug before nodding in affirmation, she could do this. It was just a sleepover, and Kelly had a pool so of course the girls would go swimming before settling in for movies later.

She steps into her flipflops, making sure the ink on her ankle wasn't smudged (she's had two years of practice in making sure this is waterproof). By the time she makes it out to the backyard, Kelly and Jody are already sprawled on towels across the pool deck.

"It's about time, Beca." Kelly smiles.

The brunette's stomach does a little flip at the way her best friend says her name. She doesn't hesitate in spreading her towel next to Kelly's and reclining in the sun. The three lay and make small talk until Kelly sits up and grabs her bottle of sunscreen, "I feel like I'm burning." The blonde says, reapplying the balm to her legs.

"Get my back, Becs?"

"Sure." Beca accepts the bottle and tries to keep her hands from shaking as she rubs the sunscreen into her friend's shoulders. The sight of Kelly's tattoo on her wrist lands Beca back into reality.

'Brandon'.

Beca mentally berates herself, Kelly has a soulmate. Kelly is normal, her soulmate is a boy, she is not interested in Beca, Beca should not be interested in her.

She finishes with the sunscreen and lays back down, trying to control her breathing.

Jody manages to convince the other two to get in the pool eventually, and their lazy swimming quickly escalates into a full out water war. A war which Beca loses. Because nothing ever seems to work out the way she would like it, Beca's top is knocked askew, and because fate seems to hate her, Kelly sees the tattoo.

"What is that?" The blonde zeroes in on the ink, swimming over to where Beca is trying to heave herself out of the pool.

"What's what?" Beca's hands are already fixing the top.

"Don't play stupid."

"It's nothing."

"It's your tattoo."

Beca wraps her towel around herself protectively, "No, you've seen my tattoo, it says Charlie."

Kelly is on her in a flash, cornering the shorter girl against the fence. Because she's never been able to say no to the blonde, Beca doesn't protest when she unwraps the towel and gingerly shifts the swimsuit top to be able to read 'Chloe' clearly written on Beca's ribs.

Hot tears are streaming down Beca's face when Kelly steps back, "You're gay."

"No I'm not." The brunette immediately defends.

"Yes you are."

"No, Kelly. Let me explain-"

"Don't." The taller girl's eyes are hard when she cuts Beca off, "You're a liar, and a queer, just get out."

Beca is seventeen and she's heartbroken as she grabs her towel from the floor, shoving it into her bag and all but sprinting from the house to her car. Beca is seventeen and she'll never make this mistake again.

…

Beca is fifteen and she's excited.

She's standing in front of the mirror in her bathroom wearing only her sports bra and sleep shorts. She checks the time on her phone before closing her eyes and beginning to count down. Ten Mississippi's later, her eyes blink open, and she hungrily looks over her pale skin.

She examines her arms, legs, and turns side to side in the mirror, trying to get a clear look at her back. She's fifteen now, it's officially past midnight, somewhere on her body should be the telltale black ink with the name of her soulmate. She is just attempting to look behind her ears when finally her sports bra rides up, and she sees it at the very top of her ribcage.

Beca blinks twice quickly, rubs her eyes, and leans in closer to the mirror while pulling the bra out of the way. It can't be right.

There is no denying it though, inked on her pale skin is very clearly the name 'Chloe'.

Her breath catches in her throat, she's fifteen, she can't drive yet, but she already knows that there is something very wrong with the fact that her soulmate is apparently another girl. She feels her knees go weak and she lets herself slide down the wall until she's sitting on the cold tile.

She cannot breathe, maybe this is why her father left, he must have known, does everyone know? Is this why she's such a social outcast at school, is this why she's never felt normal?

The thought swirling through her head are too much, and before she can regain control, she is bent over the toilet bowl, throwing up bile.

Before she goes to bed, she pulls her bra down securely, making sure the tattoo is hidden. She grabs a black sharpie, and in her most careful writing, scrawls 'Charlie' on her ankle. She blows the ink to make sure it won't smudge when she lays back down.

She isn't sure which makes her more sick, finding out her soulmate is a girl, or this cover up. She feels as though she's being unfaithful to the woman she hasn't even met yet. She can only hope that one day Chloe will understand.

Beca is fifteen and she's so very afraid.

* * *

 **A/N- Let me know what you thought, love**


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